


Oikawa's Present

by riventhorn



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Mythical Creatures, Dragon!Oikawa, Dragons, Fluff and Humor, Found Family, Gen, Seasons of Anime Exchange 2020, dragon!Kageyama - Freeform, samurai!Iwaizumi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:13:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25072183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riventhorn/pseuds/riventhorn
Summary: Oikawa and Iwaizumi have an unconventional friendship. Rarely do dragons and samurai get along, after all. But Oikawa tolerates the human and is particularly fond of the presents Iwaizumi brings to him. Until the day Iwaizumi finds an orphaned dragonet and expects Oikawa to look after it.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru, Kageyama Tobio & Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 28
Kudos: 147
Collections: Seasons of Anime Exchange 2020





	Oikawa's Present

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iooiu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iooiu/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy your gift, iooiu!

Oikawa could admit that he and Iwaizumi had an unconventional friendship. Dragons and samurai did not usually cultivate an acquaintance that did not swiftly end with one or both parties deceased. (Not that Oikawa was making any promises not to toast Iwa-chan inside his armor the next time he dared impugn Oikawa’s intelligence or taste in interior decorating. The pile of gold and jewels and other treasures in his lair was not _gaudy_ or _ostentatious_. It was impressive and tasteful and beautiful. No other dragon south of the mountains possessed such a hoard, not even that insufferable Ushijima.)

Anyway, Iwaizumi had offered him an attractive bargain (and no, Oikawa had _not_ agreed simply because of the sword pressing uncomfortably close to his heart. He could have burned Iwaizumi to a crisp in a mere second. But he decided to be gracious and merciful—truly, the finest qualities in dragonkind, never mind how some went on about fighting abilities and how far so and so could breathe fire). In return for Oikawa leaving the villages of his fiefdom alone, Iwaizumi would visit once a month with suitable tribute—fragrant oils to rub on Oikawa’s gold and emerald scales, pretty paper lanterns to light his lair, salted eels for Oikawa’s supper, and other such presents. Since then, Oikawa had not only refrained from terrorizing the peasantry, but also deigned to advise Iwaizumi on various personnel and administrative problems. After all, Oikawa had lived four hundred years to Iwa-chan’s thirty-two and was much wiser than a mere human. 

Indeed, Oikawa had come to look forward to Iwaizumi’s monthly visits, and this morning he had woken early, oiled his scales, and was now tapping his claws impatiently on a golden cup inset with rubies because Iwa-chan was late. Did he not realize that Oikawa had important matters to attend to? Did he think Oikawa was just going to sit here, waiting—

The sound of footsteps entering his lair. Oikawa immediately became absorbed in untangling a jade necklace. Really, he needed a better system for storing jewelry. Everything became so muddled together—impossible to tell where one necklace ended and another began. 

The footsteps stopped. Iwaizumi cleared his throat. 

Oikawa snaked his head around. “Oh, Iwa-chan—is that you? I’d almost forgotten you were coming today.” Iwaizumi’s cheeks were red from the cold, his boots covered in snow. Oikawa vaguely remembered hearing the wind howling outside the night before—there must have been a storm. 

Iwaizumi raised his eyebrows and hummed, but didn’t say anything, just set a wicker basket on the ground. Oikawa’s eyes focused on it immediately. His present! What lovely thing did Iwa-chan bring for him? He crawled closer, reaching out a foreleg. 

And then, the basket moved! And then—horror of horrors—it tipped onto its side, and out crawled a small, midnight-blue dragonet. 

Oikawa hissed and recoiled. “What is _this_?” he demanded. 

“I found it half-buried in a snowbank on my way up the mountain,” Iwaizumi replied. He crouched down, and the dragonet jumped and flapped its way into his arms, chirping piteously. 

And then, Iwa-chan _cuddled_ it. 

Right there, under Oikawa’s very nose, he stroked the dragonet’s scales. When the dragonet hiccupped and a small spurt of flame charred the end of Iwaizumi’s scarf, he just chuckled and rubbed under its chin. 

Oikawa stared at this appalling display. “What were you thinking?” he demanded at last. “What were you thinking, bringing that thing into my home?” 

Iwaizumi looked up, surprised. “But it’s a dragon, just like you. And it was alone and freezing in the snow. Do you think he—or maybe it’s a she—can talk? I asked it what its name was, but it hasn’t said anything.”

Huffing, Oikawa resigned himself to humoring him. Perhaps rescuing dragonets from snowbanks was an unavoidable part of the job description for a samurai, right along with saving maidens and keeping the river crossing free of bandits. Iwaizumi probably felt he had to do it. So he fixed his gaze on the dragonet and waited until its dark eyes met his. 

A flurry of impressions—numbing cold and fear, the ache of hunger pangs, a blur of fire and shouts and the clang of metal, a huge, echoing sorrow attached to the image of a larger dragon lying on the ground, unmoving. And under the surface, a deeper sense of self—stubborn, curious—that met Oikawa’s mental probing. Definitely tending more to the male than the female. A rush of awe and respect for the brilliant gold and green dragon—showed the little thing had _some_ intelligence at least—and then a spark of hope, kindling quickly, little red vines of _need_ and _want_ and _affection_ curling toward Oikawa.

He disengaged swiftly and glared down his snout at the dragonet, who was now perched on Iwaizumi’s arm and gazing up at Oikawa, his little wings fluttering. 

“He’s too young to be able to manage human speech,” Oikawa told Iwaizumi. “You could call him Tobio—that’s the best I can do with translating how he thinks of himself.” 

“Hello, Tobio,” Iwaizumi said, stroking his scales again. “Let’s get you something to eat, shall we? He already ate the pancakes filled with custard that I was bringing for you,” he added apologetically to Oikawa. 

Iwa-chan had fed Oikawa’s _present_ to this little beast? And now apparently expected Oikawa to share some of his hard-won deer meat too. Being only slightly larger than a deer himself, Oikawa did not often hunt them. Unless one liked their meat charred to a crisp (like that uncouth Bokuto who lived regrettably close to Oikawa’s den), it was best to use fangs and claws to kill prey, snatching them in the open sky or wide fields. But does were swift and after one-too-many near misses from a sharp antler, Oikawa avoided bucks. This was why the humans’ storehouses of dried and salted fish, not to mention the chicken coops—were such tempting targets. But he had his agreement with Iwaizumi, and so he usually dined on pheasants and quail and rabbits. 

All of which was to say that Oikawa did not want to share the deer he had caught the previous day. And then, after graciously carving off a few choice tidbits from the flank, he had to watch while Iwa-chan fed Tobio _by hand_ when the dragonet was perfectly capable of eating its own meal. 

Then Iwaizumi washed the blood off his hands and settled down to tell Oikawa all about his cousin, a noble lady from somewhere-or-other, who was visiting for the New Year celebrations. She had gotten into an argument with the chef over the best sauce for the eel fillets to be had at the feast, and the chef was retaliating by over-spicing everyone’s soup. Tobio fell asleep in Iwaizumi’s lap after a few minutes of this recitation.

Oikawa offered a few pithy comments on filleted eels, but his heart wasn’t in it. Iwa-chan’s visit had been _quite_ spoiled, and Oikawa wanted to be left alone to brood over his gold. 

At last Iwaizumi announced that he’d better head back if he wanted to be home before dark.

“So soon?” Oikawa murmured in his politest but non-pressing tones. 

“Gets dark early this time of year,” Iwaizumi said, and he gathered Tobio in his arms, stood, and then crouched down to settle the dragonet in between Oikawa’s crossed forelegs. 

“What are you—no—no, absolutely not, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa exclaimed. “He can’t stay _here_.”

“Why ever not?” Iwaizumi asked, frowning. “I can’t possibly take him back to the castle. My cousin would go into hysterics. And he’ll freeze to death outside. Or starve.”

“But, but—” Oikawa spluttered.

“Besides, he needs a fellow dragon to show him how to do all of the… well, all the things dragons _do_ ,” Iwaizumi continued. “And it will be good for you to have him here. I know you get lonely.”

Lonely? Him? That was ridiculous—and besides, he had Iwa-chan to visit him. When Iwa-chan wasn’t fawning over stupid dragonets he was a perfectly acceptable companion. Oikawa didn’t need anyone else, least of all this little beast who had eaten the sweet pancakes meant for him and shamelessly consumed all of Iwa-chan’s attention. 

But Oikawa realized that he couldn’t say any of this to Iwaizumi. Not if he wanted Iwaizumi to come visit him again next month. And so he said nothing, only fumed silently, smoke drifting from his nostrils, as Iwaizumi tied his scarf and bid Oikawa farewell, promising to bring presents for both of them in the new year. 

Hmph. As if a _present_ could assuage Oikawa’s feelings. He was going to be stuck here with Tobio while Iwaizumi gallivanted about his stupid castle and ate filleted eels in a rich sauce. 

The sound of Iwaizumi’s footsteps faded. Oikawa looked down at the still-sleeping dragonet. He pulled one foreleg free, extended a claw, and prodded Tobio awake. 

Tobio yawned and blinked up at Oikawa with his wide, dark eyes. Then he realized Iwaizumi was gone and began crying and stumbling toward the entrance, trying to follow Iwaizumi’s scent. 

Heaving a sigh, Oikawa extended his wings and easily leapt over Tobio, settling on the ground and blocking his way. Tobio stopped and looked up at Oikawa, tilting his head to the side, confused.

“Iwa-chan has gone back to his castle. Back to the other humans,” Oikawa explained. “You can’t go after him.”

Tobio cheeped, despondent.

Oikawa rolled his eyes. “You’re staying here with me. And I expect you to behave yourself. No touching the treasure without permission, no—” He cut off abruptly, for Tobio, upon hearing that he would be staying with Oikawa, had come bounding over and was now twining himself around Oikawa’s foreleg and chirping. 

Wrinkling his nose, Oikawa shook himself free. “Ugh. You’re absolutely filthy. You’re going into the bath right this minute.”

At least Tobio seemed to obey instructions, following along as Oikawa led him toward the hot spring located in the inner recesses of his lair. Although Oikawa paced along with a stately grace, Tobio hopped, tumbled, and jumped at his side, occasionally launching into the air with a mad fluttering of his wings that only carried him about a foot before he crashed to the ground. 

“Hasn’t anyone taught you to fly properly?” Oikawa demanded, pausing to glare down at him. 

The answer, apparently, was no, for Tobio projected an immense wave of longing and excitement at the word “fly.” The keen rush of the wind, a glimpse of dragons soaring far overhead, the desire to plunge toward the ground and pull up at the last moment—it all swirled in Tobio’s shining eyes. 

“I _suppose_ I can teach you. If you’re _good_ ,” Oikawa relented. “I am, after all, one of the fastest and most agile fliers in this part of the mountains. I participate in the summer Moon Hunt _every_ year.”

The awe and admiration in Tobio’s eyes was quite gratifying.

Of course, then the little beast had to go and fall into the hot spring and practically drown. 

Admittedly, the hot spring was quite lovely—a round pool, wreathed in steam, with crystals glittering in the walls around it. Bokuto was terribly jealous of it, and if the water hadn’t been a bit too hot for humans, Oikawa would have graciously allowed Iwaizumi to make use of the spring. So yes, Oikawa could understand how enchanting a sight it presented, but there was still no call for Tobio to barrel ahead and fling himself into the deepest part of the pool. Oikawa caught a brief glimpse of a desperate little snout breaking the water and then there were only some bubbles and ripples to mark where Tobio had gone under.

And it wasn’t as though Oikawa _cared_ what happened to Tobio. But there was Iwa-chan to think of, who would probably be very sad if Tobio drowned, because he had a tender heart, despite his sometimes abrasive demeanor. Yes, it was entirely for Iwaizumi’s sake that Oikawa leapt into the water, sending a huge wave crashing onto the rocks and upsetting his collection of oils and soaps, and spent a frantic minute ducking his head under the water and snapping his jaws until at last they closed on something and he hauled a sodden and dismayed Tobio into the air. 

Oikawa dropped him onto the side of the pool, gathered his breath, and launched into a few choice admonishments about what happened to dragonets who leapt before they looked. Tobio hung his head, abject. 

“Into the shallow end, please,” Oikawa ordered, pointing a claw, and Tobio scuttled to obey. 

After rescuing his soaps and oils, Oikawa instructed Tobio in their use and then set about taking his own bath. But then Tobio upset one of the oil jars, spilling half the contents, and lost his grip on his soap bar, which went shooting out of his slippery claws and into the deep end of the pool. Acting quickly, Oikawa pinned him in place before he could go diving after it and decided he had better just _give_ Tobio his bath. Tobio seemed to think this was a wonderful game and wriggled and squirmed and splashed until Oikawa was quite at his limit. He let Tobio loose, even though he hadn’t quite gotten the scales behind his horns scrubbed properly. 

After all that excitement, Oikawa was ready to spend a quiet evening admiring his treasure, but as soon as Tobio saw what Oikawa was doing, the earlier warning to leave the treasure alone went right out of Tobio’s head. The next Oikawa knew, the little dragonet was completely tangled in several jade and diamond necklaces and had upset the carefully crafted display of goblets and brooches. Oikawa had spent quite a long time achieving the proper effect so it looked as though they had been casually tossed aside, when in reality each was displayed to highlight its best features. 

“Stay. Put,” Oikawa said firmly, placing Tobio onto a pile of white fox furs and extracting his hind leg from the links of a diamond necklace. 

Tobio rubbed his cheek on the soft furs, crooning a little, but as soon as Oikawa turned away, he began cheeping and would not be quiet until Oikawa gave him a stack of gold coins to play with.

And then, when Oikawa wanted to go to sleep, wanted to find some _peace_ , Tobio insisted on trying to curl up at his side, no matter how many times Oikawa put him back on the perfectly comfortable and warm furs he had provided. Finally, he lost his temper and let loose a spurt of flames and roared for Tobio to stay _there_ and go to _sleep_. Tobio squeaked and hung his head and slowly wound himself into a small ball in the middle of the furs. Oikawa huffed and closed his eyes, but he could _feel_ the waves of misery emanating from the dragonet. 

“Oh, very _well_ ,” he snapped after a few minutes and chivvied Tobio into a spot tucked against his stomach where he could crook his neck around the dragonet and keep him warm. 

Of course, Tobio made little noises all night as he dreamed, and his hind leg kept kicking out and hitting Oikawa in the snout. 

Oikawa did _not_ sleep well.

*

The following week… to put it bluntly, Oikawa really could not understand why any dragon would voluntarily put itself through the experience of raising dragonets. Tobio was just one and look at all the trouble he got into—Oikawa couldn’t imagine having an entire _clutch_. 

Oikawa often thought back on the halcyon days before Tobio’s arrival and how he was wont to sleep late, relax in his hot spring, gloat over his beautiful treasure, and soar into the skies unhindered. 

Now, he was roused at an unholy hour of the morning by Tobio chasing the bats that flew in to roost near the entrance to Oikawa’s den. Oikawa could hear his little claws skittering over the stone, excited cheeps, and then a mad flapping of wings. One morning, Tobio actually caught one and proudly brought it to Oikawa, who grudgingly opened his eyes and poked at the furry body with a talon. 

“Ugh. Take that thing outside at once, Tobio. Bats do not taste good,” Oikawa said and watched sternly to make sure Tobio, looking a bit dejected, did as he was told. 

His visits to the hot spring were now the furthest thing from relaxing, as Tobio splashed about and blew bubbles under the water and would _not stay still_ when Oikawa tried to oil his scales. 

And no matter how many times Oikawa told Tobio not to touch the treasure, Tobio was forever burrowing into piles of gold and sending the coins spilling everywhere, upsetting Oikawa’s careful arrangements, and sneaking precious gems into his own little hoard that Oikawa discovered in a dark corner of the cavern. Tobio looked very small and sorry when _that_ came to light and obediently carried all the gems back to where they had come from under Oikawa’s furious eye. 

And then there was the flying. 

Now, most dragons preferred launching into the air from an elevated spot. Otherwise, one had to gallop along the ground and try to lift into the air through sheer strength. A running dragon was horribly ungainly and not at _all_ elegant, in Oikawa’s opinion. Therefore, whenever he wanted to fly, he would crawl up a tunnel that he had spent many laborious hours carving into the mountain. It opened onto a rocky ledge in the mountainside that served as a perfect launching place for getting into the air. 

Unfortunately, it was not at all suitable for a little dragonet learning how to fly. There was quite a sheer drop beneath the ledge, with sharp rocks down below. A fall and a bad landing would cause a serious injury, if not death. 

Instead, Oikawa took Tobio to a field of scattered boulders on the south side of the mountain for his flying lessons. Tobio could scramble up the side of a boulder and jump into the air, while Oikawa observed. Tobio showed significant promise for his age—Oikawa could grudgingly admit that he hadn’t been able to execute such clean landings when he was a dragonet—but Tobio was having problems with banks and turns in the air. And after several frustrating sessions of trying to explain to Tobio how to fix the problem, Oikawa decided he had to just _show_ Tobio what he meant. 

So, he led Tobio up the tunnel and onto the ledge. He issued several stern warnings about what would happen if Tobio tried to jump. Then, confident that Tobio was going to stay put, he gathered himself and leapt into the air, dropping sharply for a few seconds, then unfurling his wings and soaring into the sky. 

It felt wonderful to let himself fly freely. Wonderful to be alone for the first time in days and days. Wonderful to hear only the cool rush of the air and feel the sunshine on his wings. 

He spent a long time wheeling and diving about the mountain before he reluctantly returned to the ledge where Tobio was waiting. When he landed, Tobio’s eyes were alight with excitement. A rush of _amazement, bright wings, sky, want, want, want to fly like you_ flooded into his mind. Before Oikawa could stop him, Tobio raced to the edge and clung there, poised, his body and wings trembling with the force of his desire.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Oikawa said, neatly plucking Tobio up and depositing him back inside the tunnel. “Didn’t you hear a word I said? You aren’t ready to fly from this high up.”

He pushed Tobio with his snout, herding the little dragonet back down into their den. A stone door guarded the tunnel entrance. It could only be opened from within Oikawa’s lair and served to keep out unwanted visitors—stray owls or pesky neighbors who kept trying to get at his hot spring, for example—and Oikawa was confident that it was too heavy for Tobio to move. Still, he told Tobio in no uncertain terms that he should never go up on the ledge without Oikawa. 

Tobio crooned and twined his neck around Oikawa’s foreleg, sending out little pulses that said _hungry, hungry, meat, meat_.

That was the other thing about dragonets—Oikawa had realized they were actually bottomless stomachs on wings. 

Iwa-chan had better bring some salted fish the next time he visited or Oikawa was never speaking to him again.

*

Of course, he should have known something was wrong the moment he emerged slowly from sleep and didn’t hear Tobio chasing bats. But at first, he knew only the pleasurable feeling of having slept all night undisturbed. Yawning, he blinked and unfurled his wings, stretching. 

“This is the time we should get up _every_ day, Tobio,” he said.

Silence.

Oikawa blinked again and looked around. He didn’t see Tobio anywhere. 

“Tobio?” he called out and was met once again with silence.

A strange and unpleasant fluttering feeling took up residence in his chest. “Tobio? I’m not playing hide and seek with you before breakfast. Come out here at once!”

Nothing. And then Oikawa’s eyes fell on the door to the tunnel that led to the rocky ledge in the mountainside. It was open a crack, just wide enough for a small dragonet to squeeze through. 

That nasty feeling grew stronger, and Oikawa remembered what he had said the night before during dinner:

“Do you never stop eating, Tobio? I’m going to have to go out hunting _again_ tomorrow. Out in the cold and snow. I might freeze a few scales off at this rate.”

Tobio knew he wasn’t supposed to go outside by himself. He knew that he was forbidden from trying to fly off the side of the mountain. But what if—what if he had taken Oikawa’s words seriously? What if he had gotten it into his silly little head that he needed to go hunting himself? 

Because it would be just like Tobio to be so—so stupid and foolish! He was _always_ doing such things—climbing onto Oikawa’s back during their baths to oil those hard-to-reach scales at the base of Oikawa’s neck; picking through the treasure to find the white gems that Oikawa especially liked; curling up next to Oikawa at night, his warm, eager little presence lapping soothingly against Oikawa’s mind. 

“Tobio!” Oikawa charged forward, wrenching the door all the way open. “Tobio, stop!” How Tobio had managed to open the door didn’t matter. All that mattered was that Oikawa reach him before it was too late.

He climbed the tunnel, heart pounding with terror, and burst onto the mountainside into a bright, still winter morning. The ledge was empty.

No— _no_. If Tobio had jumped….

Somehow, Oikawa made himself go to the edge and look down at the sharp rocks below. Then he almost collapsed from the relief when he didn’t immediately see Tobio’s body. Shakily, he flew down and spent the next frantic minutes searching, searching. There was no sign of Tobio.

He must have managed to take flight. His brave, clever Tobio-chan. The minute Oikawa had him back he was going to smother him in his wings and tell him what a wonderful flyer he was, right before wringing Tobio’s scrawny little neck for being so reckless.

But if he had flown, then where was he now? Tobio was so small, so young—surely he could not have made it far?

Oikawa started searching around the mountain and surrounding forest, growing increasingly desperate. As the minutes ticked by with no sign of Tobio, new fears took shape in Oikawa’s mind. What if he had crashed into the trees while trying to land and injured himself? What if a vicious bear or wolf had found him? What if he had been swept away by the strong winds and was now miles and miles from home, lost and alone? 

After an hour of this, Oikawa had worked himself into such a state that he had to incinerate a small tree—it was either that or fall into hysterics, which he couldn’t do when his Tobio-chan needed him. But he couldn’t search the entire forest by himself, and so he flew—faster than he had ever flown—to Iwaizumi’s castle. 

Of course, the humans reacted badly to having a dragon land on the roof. Oikawa had to spend several minutes dodging arrows and roaring for Iwa-chan before the man himself appeared on the balcony below, out of breath, with sword in hand. 

“Oikawa, what are you doing here?” he demanded, waving his hand for his soldiers to lower their bows and spears. “Have you forgotten our agreement? You can’t just come to my castle whenever the whim takes you.”

“Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa cried, hopping down and balancing precariously on the balcony railing. “It’s Tobio-chan! He’s lost, and I can’t find him!”

Iwaizumi sheathed his sword and hurried forward. He put a hand on Oikawa’s neck and rubbed his snout. “Calm down now. You’re all right. It will be all right. Take a few breaths and tell me what happened.”

Oikawa did, trying to slow the words that tumbled out. “And a bear might be eating him _right this second_ , Iwa-chan!” he finished. He butted his head against Iwaizumi’s chest and crooned several low, miserable chirps. 

Iwaizumi stroked his neck, soothing. “I’ll gather everyone in the castle. We’ll help you search. Don’t worry. We’ll find him.”

The humans had been in the middle of preparing for the New Year’s feast, and upon seeing Oikawa, their fingers all strayed for the nearest sharp implement. But after Iwaizumi explained that no, Oikawa was not here to eat them or their chickens or set their houses on fire, everyone grew a bit less twitchy, though still inclined to stare incredulously at the sight of a dragon rubbing its head against the lord of the castle’s shoulder. But once Iwaizumi roused them to the urgency of the situation, Oikawa had to admit they responded admirably. Soon, everyone had dressed in furs and boots and set out to comb the countryside. Iwaizumi’s cousin took charge of a large party and went stomping off through the snow. If Oikawa had had his wits about him, he would have remembered how Iwaizumi had slandered the woman, claiming she would have hysterics at the mere sight of a dragonet—a patently false claim and proof that samurai, however noble, were not above gross untruths when it suited them. 

Oikawa wanted to rush back out himself, but Iwaizumi made him rest a few moments and eat seven fried mackerel to keep up his strength. As he crunched the last bones, though, the adrenaline that had kept him going ebbed, and his swallow caught in his throat.

“It’s my fault, Iwa-chan,” he admitted. “I… I said some awful things. And Tobio is—he’s so frustrating and annoying! But he’s… he’s very sweet too, and if I lose him, I—”

“If it’s your fault, then you better apologize to him once we’ve got him back,” Iwaizumi said, stern, but he patted Oikawa’s snout, and Oikawa took heart that Iwa-chan had said _when_ they got him back, not _if_.

Still, as the day dragged on with no sign of Tobio, even Iwaizumi began to look worried. The shadows of the trees were stretching long blue fingers across the snow when Iwaizumi came to a halt in a meadow, the white puffs of his breath visible as he leaned on an old stump. “Oikawa, I think—” he began in a heavy voice.

And he didn’t want to hear it— _wouldn’t_ hear it. They were going to find Tobio-chan, safe and alive. Just a few more minutes—if they just searched over that next hill—

He started to open his mouth to cut Iwa-chan off, but before he could speak, he heard the rushing sound of powerful wings and sensed the presence of another dragon.

“Hey, hey, hey!” a voice bellowed, and Bokuto, his white and amber scales gleaming in the waning sunlight, came flying into view above the trees. 

Usually, when Oikawa had the misfortune to encounter the other dragon, he proffered a chilly greeting before suddenly remembering he had a pressing errand to attend to. But today, as Oikawa looked up, his heart leapt with joy, for there, clasped in Bokuto’s talons, was a small, familiar shape. 

“Tobio-chan!” he cried, rising up on his hind legs and beating his wings. 

Tobio squirmed wildly in Bokuto’s talons, cheeping and chirping, and the second Bokuto landed in a spray of snow and let go of him, he flapped and jumped his way to Oikawa. 

Dimly, Oikawa was aware Bokuto was talking, something about finding Tobio stranded in a tall pine tree, blown there by the fierce winds. But he was too busy twining his neck with Tobio’s and crooning to him, battered by Tobio’s _frightened, sorry, sorry, lost, alone, sorry_ to pay much attention.

“Took me a while to get him to calm down enough to figure out where he’d come from,” Bokuto continued, watching their reunion with an affable air. “But once he figured out you and I were acquaintances, he latched onto me like a limpet and wouldn’t stop cheeping about you.” He swung his head round and regarded Iwaizumi curiously. “Did Oikawa bring you along to have for supper?”

“Absolutely _not_ ,” Oikawa said, detaching himself from Tobio for a moment to glare at Bokuto. “That is _my_ samurai, and he is _not_ to be eaten.”

Bokuto snuffled at Iwaizumi curiously and lashed his tail across the snow. Iwa-chan looked slightly nervous, but then Tobio spotted him and wriggled out of Oikawa’s grasp to rush toward him. 

Iwaizumi grinned, bending down to gather Tobio into his arms. He rubbed his fingers under his chin. “There you are—safe and sound. You gave us all a good scare, Tobio.”

“That’s right.” Oikawa gathered his breath. “You took _years_ off my life, Tobio, with that little stunt! Years! When you knew perfectly well that you were not allowed up on that ledge!”

“It was pretty impressive for the little guy to make it as far as he did, though. Must be a pretty good flyer, huh?” Bokuto commented, crunching on a mouthful of snow.

“Of course Tobio-chan is a good flyer!” Oikawa snapped, giving him a glare. “He’ll be the very best! He’s _my_ dragonet, isn’t he?” 

Tobio chirped once, very loudly, and stared at Oikawa with those big eyes of his. 

Oikawa huffed, conscious of Iwa-chan’s amused expression. “Well of course you’re mine, Tobio. And when we get home we are going to have a long talk about _rules_ and what happens to dragonets who don’t follow them.” 

Iwaizumi put Tobio down and said that he’d best round up the rest of the humans before it got dark, convey the happy news, and return to their castle to resume their interrupted feast. Thankfully Bokuto had gotten interested in a snowbank and was busy rolling about in it and didn’t notice when Iwaizumi left. Oikawa had not cared at all for the way Bokuto had been looking at Iwa-chan—like a cat watching a small bird. He’d have to visit the other dragon in the coming days and impress upon him the folly of trying to mess with Oikawa’s human—he supposed he would also have to offer Bokuto a chance to bathe in his hot spring as thanks for rescuing Tobio-chan. Oikawa had manners after all, unlike _some_ individuals in the vicinity.

But that could wait. Right now, all he wanted was to take Tobio-chan home. It had been _such_ a day. He was frazzled and exhausted. He barely had the strength to carry Tobio back to their den. 

Once there, he ensconced Tobio on the soft white fox furs and then curled around him, curving his wings around the little dragonet so that Tobio was completely sheltered by Oikawa’s body. Tobio crooned, rubbing his head against Oikawa and kneading the fur with his little claws. 

“You aren’t to leave this spot, Tobio. Not to chase bats, not to go climbing onto ledges, not to go jump into the hot spring. Is that understood? We are going to _sleep_.” 

Tobio chirped and then asked, hopefully, _tomorrow, fly?_

Oh, this confounding little beast! Oikawa began readying a scathing reply explaining that they would absolutely not be flying tomorrow—they were going to stay in their nice warm den and Oikawa was going to soothe his shattered nerves in the hot spring. 

But Tobio chirped again, cuddled up against Oikawa and closed his eyes, repeating with no small satisfaction, _tomorrow, fly!_

And… well, he _had_ told Bokuto that Tobio was going to be the best, which wouldn’t happen without lots of practice, no matter how much talent Tobio possessed. And he also remembered what Iwaizumi had said and what had started this whole disaster in the first place.

“I… I don’t mind hunting food for you, Tobio,” he whispered. “And I don’t mind having you here. In fact I… well, the point is that we will fly _together_ from now on. No more of this sneaking off by yourself business. It’s terrible for my scales, Tobio-chan. You don’t want my scales to go dull and fall out from the stress, do you?”

Gratifyingly distressed chirps at the very thought—and Oikawa crooned again, pleased, and settled down to sleep, his darling Tobio-chan warm and safe. Really—really the _best_ present that Iwa-chan had ever brought him. 


End file.
